The Obligatory Avengers Fix-it
by I'm Nova
Summary: On our birthday, my heart sister allowed me to publish the one story I've been obsessed with lately. Fixing all the many, many tragedies Endgame left us with. Some things can't be allowed to persist. Happy Birthday, notjustmom!
1. Goose

_Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. If I did, I wouldn't have to fix the movie here, would I? A.N. Yes, this is silly. But hey, people keep saying that a rat is actually the main hero of Endgame…a cat (sorry, Flerken) can fix it. Or half of it. Also, sorry there's very little actual Ironstrange. This started with Pepperony in the background. Then my heart sister promised me a Pepperony story fixing that particular snag for me (because you can't introduce a kid character with the goal of orphaning her, you just don't!) but mentioned she usually writes Ironstrange, so…Ironstrange got added last minute. Hope you like it, love! ^^''' _

Chapter one: Goose

Goose was pissed. At her name, yes – Mar Vell might have been a pleasant enough companion, but her ability to pick undercover aliases was abysmal – but much more so because the world she'd settled in suddenly went up in flames. The Kree scientist had assured her that it was a nice place to live. Backward, yes, but that was exactly what made it a quiet refuge to get things done. Who would have thought even to look twice at a planet whose inhabitants had just started (decades definitely counted as just) to travel in space?

Everyone and their mom, it turned out, because apparently way too many people thought this was a good place to play with, for the very same reason. This not even considering that said inhabitants seemed to spend most of their time devising ways to murder or enslave each other.

Still, most of these troubles passed her by. She had her cot, actual gourmet food, unlimited pets, a human-shaped heater and almost anyone who saw her cooed. After Mar-vell was gone, she still had the whole base attending to her whims. And then…well, Fury, despite his name, was a total marshmallow, as far as she was concerned. Until Sadoqua knew what happened (Fury liked to tease her with 'references', which is how she caught that name). Fury never came back, and if this wasn't insulting enough, nobody seemed willing to pay her any attention at all. Okay, the literal hundreds of accidents, fires, various chaos, and the distinctly emptier feeling of the world might have something to do with it. Still, how could people forget _her_ existence?

A few days later, a mightily pissed off Goose officially became a stray. Not that she had to worry about survival – the local land creatures hadn't evolved to deal with tentacles, so anything she fancied was on the menu. But, if she was completely honest (and despite the fact that she had her dignity to take into consideration) she missed the cuddles. Soon, she was out of their flat, looking for a new provider. Minion. Devotee.

Nobody was just right. Sure, plenty of people liked the pretty kitty, but she knew that none of them would stay once she showed her true colours. Besides, better that her helpless earthling lookalike get adopted first.

First took longer than she expected. Five years, and Goose had become a dark legend. A monster leftover from Thanos, some said. A genetic freak that passed like a dark shadow trough cities and villages, still looking. Always looking. She crossed path with someone she smelled on Fury once. Entertained the thought of teaming up with him. He needed some purrs…oh, yesterday. Or maybe years ago. But it looked like he wouldn't notice her if she took out _his_ eye, himself a dark, murderous man, and she refused to beg for company.

Whether it was fate, luck or instinct, she found herself on a battlefield five years later. The first battlefield she'd perceived since she was abandoned. There had been squabbles, sure…but things like Fury used to tell her about, whole towns uprooted, or half-razed, or whatever the flavor of the day was? Nobody had the strength for that anymore.

Or used to, because now? Now everyone was there. So many smells she'd had to rub off Fury, replacing them with her own, as was proper. And even if no town was upside-down yet (the fact that they were in the country might have helped), somebody needed to know their place.

How or why the battle crossed with a game of catch, Goose wasn't sure. All she knew was that a gauntlet (why weren't they using a ball? That's what humans usually did) fell, that both parties went for it…but of course, no one had a Flerken on their side.

Goose pounced, entering the gauntlet and carrying it away from the contenders with her own momentum. She fit, and clearly she needed to examine why everyone was obsessed with it.

A voice was in her head now…a voice that had mightily annoyed her until she got rid of the offending weight. On Fury's desk. Why would anyone want it? "Oh God, not again."

As if that wasn't frustrating enough, another snapped, "Oh, shut it, Space, we know all about the indignity you suffered! At least we're not inside this time".

"Yet," Goose chimed in, letting her tentacles explore the gauntlet's fingers. Was there a weak point?

"We wouldn't be anyway, I would reverse time if you tried. As it is, I'm just slowing it a bit," a third voice interjected, soft but in a no-nonsense tone.

"Why?" She was honestly curious.

"Well, you technically have us," It was a fourth voice, terribly condescending. Maybe she could eat just this one. To give it a lesson.

"So the question is: what do you want?" Yet another identity, and this one seemed a terribly grave, and just a tiny bit sad woman. For someone who posed such a simple question, you'd think they might be less tragic.

"I want Fury back. Well, Fury…why do people think this is a good name for him, I'll never know."

"This is awkward." This voice sounded surprisingly like a young boy. "That happened already. Everyone is back."

If everything was fine, why was the battle still ongoing?

The condescending bastard from before intervened again. "Someone has more use for us, clearly. Someone who realizes that we can do everything, and is actually able to conceive a wide plan even without me to hold their hand…or is it the reverse?"

That would never do. "I wish that everyone who's posing a threat to the restoration you managed would fucking die. How dare they!"

"We can do that." It was the young voice, and it seemed so cheery about actually being able to help.

"You know what to do." It was the sad woman…and she was right. Goose did. Her tentacles already in the gauntlet's fingers, she snapped, with a mental warning. "You all better not be pranking me!"

If eating the Tesseract (that's the name Fury used) had been annoying and like the heaviest, chattiest hairball ever, actually ordering them all about was like being hit by the worst a few different civilizations out there could do. Actual civilizations, humans were still playing around. Their destruction was more on the flashy, explosive side than any kind of refined damage.

She survived; of course she did. But Fury had better find her soon, because she was going to have to eat baby food for a while. Her tentacles…ouch. Just ouch. They trailed after her when she backpedaled out of the gauntlet, squinting, trying to assess the situation.

At least, the spaceship wasn't there anymore, and the fight had stopped. There was way more dust than she'd like in the air, but she supposed it couldn't be helped. She found herself scooped up by…nope, it wasn't a someone, not in the common meaning, though it was definitely sentient. But it was red, cool and soft, it didn't smell threatening, and she had no qualms making herself comfortable by a bit of kneading. Shaky hands pet her, and the soft voice from before said, "Good girl. I missed him, you know."

She didn't react. She just wanted a rest.

"That's Fury's fucking cat" someone said behind her. "She's the background on his phone. What? I snooped once."

"Language, Stark," another man chided. Couldn't they just let her sleep…and preferably bring her home? A salve wouldn't go amiss, too, thank you very much.

Of course they couldn't. Humans. The medication was quickly provided, bless Red's friend. But victory celebrations meant everyone was loud. So loud. And the only ones who were quieter, were still talking…right by her. The one who'd recognized her, and her doctor.

Another, calloused hand was petting her, and she purred softly. "I thought I had to do it. That you'd given up the stone because I was supposed to destroy him."

"You did. Hulk alone wouldn't have been capable of reverse engineering time travel, professor or not. No you, no stones, no reversing Thanos' genocide."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." It was snappish, and Goose opened one eye to check. Yup, the man was glaring. Could he please go back to petting her?

"Do you want the truth? There was…oh, a dozen endings where we won. Not one. But this is the only one where we won without losing someone. Especially not someone I wanted in my future." Someone was scratching her ear…ooooh, Red. At least, Red until someone introduced them properly.

"I know you weren't with the team, but Nat was someone. Very much someone." The glare intensified. "And whoever you want, they're unlikely to appreciate your attitude."

"And a dozen people could have vanquished Thanos, but a passing cat did. Do you really want spoilers?" The doctor winked.

"What? Yes! Yes, of course. Spill it!"

"But you see, it won't happen if I do."

"Fuck it. It's not that it won't happen. It won't happen exactly the way you like." There was a thump. Ouch. The calloused one had caught the other one by the collar and shoved him against the wall.

The doctor actually laughed. "You think you can extort information from me, Tony? I can withstand anything."

"Pain, sure. I've seen you. But I have my methods."

Oh. She shouldn't have concerned herself. Sure, it was hard not to check if her doctor was going to be trounced. Instead, the celebrations just got a little more celebrative.


	2. Steve

_Disclaimer: I still don't own a thing. Or this would be actual script._

Chapter Two: Steve

When he'd accepted the mission to bring the Infinity Stones back to their proper place in the timeline, Steve hadn't anticipated trouble. After all, giving people things had to be easier than stealing them. He'd started from 2014 because it was the closest time, and it just made sense to do things in order. Why go deeper into the past carrying power you could have dropped already? After their Loki mishap (that was the kindest word for it) the last thing he wanted was to actually lose any stone at the wrong point in the timeline.

With the info he'd been given, dropping the Power Stone on Morag was perhaps the smoothest operation in his whole career. Despite his fame, Steve would be the first to admit that his actual fights tended to have side effects he didn't expect. He blamed it on Bucky being missing for most of these. His friend had always been the one who tried to talk some sense into him.

Next, Vormir. _That _was a surprise.

"Hello Steve, son of Sarah." If it wasn't weird enough that someone on Vormir knew his ma's name…that was fucking Red Skull. He thought he'd finished with the Nazi madman. Unless it was Loki? The timeline did change…but why would the Asgardian pick that specific face at all? He could just as well pick a fight in his own form, and he certainly couldn't expect anything else from this identity. No, it had to be the actual Red Skull. Damn. The man was harder to get rid of than a cockroach.

Steve had been too taken aback to reply, but he wanted to punch the smirk the other gave him. The bastard was just as creepy as he remembered. Instead, he listened.

"The proud Captain America. The virtuous. And yet here you are, having stolen an infinity stone. The only difference between us is – I do my research. You picked the only useless one."

That was rich. Nat hadn't died for an useless trinket. For that alone, he should be turning the Red Skull into a Red Cranium. He'd seen enough doctors in his life to pick up a few terms, and a mandible-less (and preferably toothless) Skull sounded like the best option. But he had a question first. "What makes you think I've stolen this?"

"Nobody who paid the price would give it up. And since you haven't paid, you might as well have picked up colored glass. It would have saved you the murder."

"That's more your style than mine," Steve snarled.

"You didn't? You're more idiotic than I expected. So you didn't just steal something you can't use…you have someone after you who won't rest until you're dead."

"Clint gave me this to put it back."

"Nobody brings it back. Nobody. Ever. Why are you trying to persuade me of your morals? Go on and throw it away. Do you think I've never seen it happen? That when time travel is possible, once an Infinity Stone's hiding spot becomes known, people from all over the universe won't flock to it? Some don't want to pay the price. Many, like you, discover it's useless without it – the Soul Stone is a finicky one, I'm afraid. I've seen it tossed in anger, disappointment, spite. And each time I've laughed, because she exacted double price. Maybe that's why the Space Stone thought I'd make a fine guardian for it. We both have a sadistic streak…and don't suffer idiots and other inferior creatures." Red Skull was grinning, as proud of himself as the first time Steve had met him.

He should just ignore the Nazi and do what he came to do. He had already dawdled too long. But the fucker seemed weirdly obsessed with his idea, and if he'd learned anything from their interactions, it was that doing anything the man said was always, without exceptions, a bad idea. Steve jumped to 2012, the purple stone warm in his pocket.

"Are you sure?" It sounded almost like Nat, but he was already halfway through the jump when she spoke.

The next stones slipped back in time without trouble. The only person who actually spoke to him was someone calling herself Ancient One, who laughed when he pointed out that he wasn't as young as he looked either. She seemed more concerned with Banner's health, though, and he reassured her that Hulk hadn't come personally simply for economy's sake. He hoped that the twinge of guilt he felt went unnoticed. For economy's sake, he should have got rid of a stone already.

He tried to hide his guilty grimace when he appeared back in the yard of Stark's new house. Hideout. Whatever it was classified as. It had been a surprise to find him holed up here. Tony seemed to think he'd done so much damage and just enough good, and further interventions were just more occasions for him to screw up further. For a moment, Steve had worried that the man had spent too much time on Goop. (That part of discovering the future had been quite jaw-dropping.) It seemed that Stark went for Earthing these days. What'd be next? Bee poison therapy? In the end, they'd talked him into helping, but the millionaire wouldn't like having to work longer at this time-travelling gig. And Clint…

"Please tell me it's all fine," was Tony's welcome back. Steve was relieved to see a smiling Strange hovering in the background. Someone was taking care of the man's sanity. True, it was someone who joked about joining a cult. But most cults didn't offer actual magic.

Thank God Bucky was there, too. Of course he was. Steve leaned on his partner's iron arm, before he even dared to speak. Bucky's gentle, concerned eyes gave him the strength to confess.

"Almost."

"What the fuck does almost mean?" It wasn't Tony. It was Clint. Oops.

Steve threw the Soul Stone at him. There was no way that the archer would miss it.

Clint cradled it against his chest. "Out of all of them, you had to make a mess of this." His voice was low. Steve would have felt better if he was yelling.

"Yes, well, you don't know Red Skull like I do."

One of Bucky's eyebrows shot up. He knew the bastard, too.

"He didn't put up a fight last time, and if you let your grudge—"

Steve didn't listen to whatever threat would follow. "It's not that. Just – you have to bring it back yourself. Not because I can't be bothered to deal with the bastard. Because…because he's fucked with my mind, okay? And because, well. If I'm right. But probably I'm not right, so. Anyway, go personally and chuck it back. Please." God, he hadn't been this awkward since he was a Brooklyn teen. Bucky would laugh at him for ages. But he couldn't give Clint hope if he was wrong, but nobody else could go if he'd deduced the old Nazi's ravings right, so. Damn.

"Do you have any idea what you're asking?" It was no more than a hiss, and Steve was impressed by Clint's self-control. He had half-expected he'd be dodging arrows by now.

"Besides, we have no more particles, and it'll take me a while to produce a batch. They're not exactly coffee pots." Tony's annoyance was refreshing, after the well-deserved hatred Steve got. In fact, the man was glaring…at Strange?

"Or I could drive you, you know." When did Lang arrive? Or had he always been here? Ant-man was always hard to keep track of. Despite having a family of his own, the man still smiled like a boy. "After the whole mess, I checked, and … the van. It's still working. We can definitely have a back-and-forth trip. Anyone else wanting to come along?"

"If you don't feel like it, Clint, I can go. Or someone else." This was Professor Hulk. The new and improved version. Soft spoken. But for all his fame, not as smart as Banner, apparently.

Steve shook his head. "Clint. I know. I sound like a crazy, sadistic asshole. Maybe I've just spoken to one for too long. But you might regret it if you don't go."

"You will regret it when I come back. You might want to start running, Rogers." Clint turned sharply and nodded to Lang.

"Seriously, Steve, what was that all about?" It was Bucky. Steve could see his eyes already considering escape plans, just in case.

He refused to move. "We'll see soon."

The beaten up striped van parked right in Tony's yard two literal minutes later. Its backdoor was flung open, and Natasha jumped out, grinning. Every copper hair and detail on her jumpsuit in place. (Not that he'd ever counted her hair, but still.)

Clint walked behind her, and seemed almost dazed. Lang hovered by him, in case first aid was needed, Steve assumed. Perhaps again.

Nat stalked to him and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "I heard that you figured it out. Thanks."

The new Hulk keened. "Nat, I..I tried."

"I know, and it's not your fault - the economy just doesn't work that way." Natasha patted the green man's shoulder, shaking her head.

"The economy?" Tony frowned.

"You can't use whatever you bought and want your money back, can you? Of course you couldn't use the Stone to call me back. And that's why it had to be Clint. Would you issue a refund to someone who hadn't actually bought your goods?"

Tony frown didn't abate. "I just tinker with things, that's why I have accountants."

The collective laugh that followed felt like the first in years…and it might well have been. After, Clint finally was alert enough to speak up. "The bonehead tried to stop me from throwing the stone away, you know? As if I could miss that kind of *chasm*(?). That's when I started to suspect you were onto something."

"I bet he was surprised to see you." Steve grinned.

"You'd win. The Stone was, too. She'd never heard that she was useless now, and as powerful as she could be, she still didn't measure up to the price I paid. And I'm using she because – well, she did. She kinda talked to me, and her voice was definitely feminine. And very outraged I didn't think she was the best thing to ever happen to me. She agreed that a life should pay for a lifetime provision of powers though, so. Nat." Clint nodded toward the redhead, eyes soft.

"Brilliant, Clint!" Tony clapped. "As for you, mister, you have some things to answer for!" He turned to the sorcerer.

"I just thought that you would have trusted someone who'd been in the team longer more." Strange shrugged.

"As opposed to the one who fucking sees the future? You have apologies to make. It's not exactly gas you wasted!"

"Can you lovebirds plan exactly how many times and how _deeply_ he'll apologise once I'm gone?" Natasha winked.

" My bad." Tony exaggeratedly bowed to her. "Everyone in, boys! Party time!"

"Just a minute, Stark!" Bucky called.

As eager as he was to celebrate, Steve stilled. "What's up?"

His friend spoke without actually looking at him. "The van. And Stark. And Banner too, I suppose. I mean, you could go back."

"Back?"

"Clint's married. That idiot got his green girlfriend back. Heck, even Wanda should have gotten Vision back – if he counts. What I'm trying to say is. People form families. You could have Peggy. You've always wanted her. And technically, we never met her husband."

"James Buchanan Barnes, do you really think I would not mess up the timeline if I went back?"

Bucky shrugged. "America survived without its Captain. Vietnam, presidents' assassinations…why fix what ain't broken? Especially if you could just enjoy your home life."

Steve sighed. "You do know that the whole Captain America gig started as advertising. Or didn't they bother telling you at all? I wouldn't ruin the timeline for Vietnam. I would because I had no idea you were alive, but there is no fucking way I'd let Hydra use you one day longer than whenever I'd end up. And I'm pretty sure that would ruin our precious timeline. Besides, a few decades ago I wouldn't be able to do this."

The kiss was slow and sensual. When they parted, Bucky stumbled. Steve bit back a grin. He doubted that the other man would appreciate being called cute. "Let's go, now. We can't miss the party in honour of Nat! You less than anyone else."

"She'll know," Bucky warned. The woman could seem almost psychic sometimes.

"Even better."


End file.
